


Broken

by Blink_Blue



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Established Relationship, Fights, Guilt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 20:33:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6768925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink_Blue/pseuds/Blink_Blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They break up after the truth about Stanford comes out. Oliver going to his next doctor’s appointment alone and sees an unexpected familiar face in the waiting room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

He hasn’t had a single good doctor’s visit since his diagnosis. That’s just a fact. Not that he receives (more) bad news with each visit. In fact, with each appointment–and no lack of encouragement and motivation from his doctor, a strong emphasis on treatment and a healthy lifestyle–he’s finally started to accept his diagnosis, and the fact that this virus may not affect his life all that much in the long run. But still, the endless plethora of blood tests, waiting days for the results, and forever wondering if the medication is doing its job, or if one day science will fail him… it’s exhausting.

Having Connor at his side made it better though. That horrible night when Oliver told him he was positive, shaking and sobbing, and Connor held him in his arms and said  _‘we are in this together’_ , he hadn’t believed him at first. He hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up, especially not when Connor had let him down so horribly before. But he was there, through the endless doctor’s appointments, trips to the pharmacy to pick up _their_ medication, every bad bout of side effects, Connor was always there. 

Except now.

Oliver presses his finger against the ‘3’ button and watches glumly as the elevator doors slowly close in front of him. He’s never been alone in this elevator before. Usually on the way up, Connor would be holding his hand, squeezing firmly, sending him positive thoughts with a close mouthed grin, so very different from the smirks that he’s used to seeing on the man’s lips. Afterwards, as they ride the elevator back down, as he breathes a sigh of relief, begging the tension in his shoulders to go away, Connor would wrap an arm around him, kiss him gently on the cheek, and rest his head on his shoulder for the short duration of the ride.    

But Connor’s not here now.

It’s been over two weeks since Connor had packed a bag and left apartment 303. It was the worst fight they’d ever had, full of screaming and crying, and begging on his end. And it left Oliver feeling more confused and desperate than ever. He had decided to come clean about Stanford, and he told Connor the truth. That’s what set it off. How did Oliver ever think he could keep such a horrible thing secret for long? The look on Connor’s face, the betrayal and the hurt… Oliver hadn’t regretted something so much since the terrible drunken night that resulted in his diagnosis.

So Oliver had apologized, again and again, begging for forgiveness. His reasons were clear and simple, he didn’t want to move. He made a horrible mistake to get his way. But it’s not like he cheated. It honestly didn’t seem that bad in comparison. But the way Connor had looked at him, like he didn’t even recognize him. Nothing hurt worse than that, except for when Connor walked out the door. 

He’d called, of course, and left a dozen messages when the other man refused to pick up. Texted too. But he got no response. Not that he blames him. He kept waiting for Connor to come home. The other man hadn’t packed nearly enough stuff to stay gone for long. The closet is still full of his clothes, the bookshelf in the living room is full of his books, and the kitchen still houses what little dish ware that belongs to him. But Connor never came back. 

Sullenly, Oliver pushes open the door to the office and steps inside. The familiarity of the room and the feelings that come along with it, hits him all at once. Tremors of trepidation tingle up his spine. His shoulders ache from the tension of being so taut, and he steps awkwardly with his hands buried in his pockets. He looks around the small room, and his eyes freeze when they see him. Connor looks up at him from where he sits in one of the waiting chairs. Hesitantly, he sits up slightly from where he had been slouched in his seat.  

Oliver blinks, unsure if he’s really seeing him. He shyly takes a step forward and curses himself, already feeling tears come to his eyes at the mere sight of him. He can blame it on impending checkup nerves all he wants, but the truth is he’s so damn relieved to see Connor here. 

“Hi,” he says softly. “What are you doing here?” 

Connor looks away uncomfortably as his eyes drop back to his lap. “I know how you feel about these appointments,” he murmurs. “Even if… even if we’re going through a rough patch… I didn’t want you here alone.”

“A rough patch?” Oliver asks, a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

Connor gives him a very familiar eye roll. “A very rough patch.”

“Connor…” He can’t help the smile that breaks on his face. He feels so damn grateful he could almost pull the other man into his arms. 

“It’s fine,” Connor says quickly, shaking his head. “Go sign in,” he nods towards the front desk.

“Right. Yeah.” Oliver hurriedly walks over to the lady at the front desk and signs his name in. The lady thanks him and says the wait won’t be too long. He nods and quickly moves back to the waiting room, half afraid that if he takes too long, Connor will change his mind and run out.

Connor looks up when he approaches again. Oliver glances at the seat next to him, not sure if he should leave an empty seat between them. He finally decides he’s being silly and plops down in the chair next to the other man. A moment of awkward silence passes between them as Oliver tries to think of what to say.

“H-how have you been?” He asks nervously.

“Fine.” Connor responds curtly. “And you?”

“Better now that you’re here.”

“I had the date in my phone calendar,” Connor says as he anxiously plays with said device in his hands. “This is the big one, right?”

Oliver nods. “Four month checkup. The first of… god knows how many.”

“Everything will be fine,” Connor says softly, turning to look at him. “Don’t worry.”

“Thanks for being here. It really means a lot to me.”

The other man nods and returns his gaze to his lap.

Oliver chews on his lip as he looks around the room. It’s practically empty except for them. It’s never felt so awkward between them. Wistfully, he wonders how they got to this point.

“Are you–are you still staying at Asher’s?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s that going?”

Connor groans and rolls his eyes with a shake of his head.

Oliver can’t help but smile at the familiar expression. When Connor had first left, once it had become obvious that Connor wasn’t going to return his calls, Oliver had called around in hopes of getting in contact with him. Michaela had picked up her phone–no Connor with her–and Asher didn’t. It was obvious where he had run off to. And when he went over there, Asher made it pretty clear, as sympathetically as he could manage, that Connor just needed some space. And that was all the explanation he got. He thinks he deserved a little more than that.

“You could always come home.”

_Home._ It’s funny that he called it that. Because it doesn’t feel like home anymore, not when Connor’s not there. For so long now, he’s gotten used to the other man’s presence. The smell of fresh coffee in the morning–he never drinks it himself. Connor always hogging the bathroom when he wants to use it, usually doing his hair or something. And the bed–god the bed feels so empty, so _big._ Why did he ever need so much space when he was single? None of it feels right without him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, when the other man doesn’t respond.

“Don’t apologize. I’m not even mad at you.”

“You-you’re not?”

Connor shakes his head. “I’ve done worse. I just–I just need some space right now.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that, but–”

“Oliver?”

They both look up to see a nurse waving them over. Their eyes swing back to each other again as they slowly stand. Oliver gives him a look that says  _this conversation isn’t over._ Connor avoids his gaze after that, and simply follows behind him to the room the nurse points them into.

“The doctor will be with you shortly.”

Oliver takes a shaky breath as the nurse leaves them alone in the small room. He glances at the paper gown he’s supposed to put on. Ironically, Connor seems fascinated by a spot on the wall to his side, and doesn’t glance at him once as he removes his clothes as puts the gown on.

“Connor?” He says softly, as he climbs onto the examination table.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being here.”

Connor looks up at him from the chair he’s sitting on. He reaches out a hand which Oliver graciously takes, and squeezes it firmly. 

In truth, this checkup is no different from all the others they’ve been to. Save for the awkward moment when the doctor asks them how they’re doing–polite conversation is all–and they both stutter and stumble their way through the answer.  _“Fine–doing well–great–really good–”_ She gives them a bit of a strange look but then quickly moves on through the long checklist of things to do, and Oliver’s favorite part–questions to ask.

Thankfully, she seems happy with all of his responses. She checks his vital signs, heart rate, blood pressure, respiratory rate, heart and lung exam… Every time he feels anxious he glances at Connor, who gives him a small smile, and he feels a bit of tension drain out of him. Finally, the last thing on the list, getting his blood drawn for testing. She explains it again, like she has every other time, the lab work will test his CD4 count and his viral load. If his CD4 count is high, and his viral load in low, this means his treatment is working. A low or undetectable viral load is a very strong sign. And he’ll have to get this done every four months, probably for the rest of his life. He’ll be sick of this little spiel long before then.

Finally, it’s over, and Oliver can breathe a sigh of relief. He’ll get his test results back in a few days. He’ll do his best not to panic until then. Thankfully, he’s got other issues at the forefront of his thoughts, as he glances over at the man who’d been sitting quietly in the corner.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” The doctor exclaims just as she was about to leave the room. “Connor? Would you like me to renew your prescription while you’re here? I know yours is set to expire soon. And no point in you making two trips.”

Connor blinks at her dumbly, looking a bit like a deer in the headlights. His eyes flicker over to Oliver briefly, before stuttering, “Um… yeah. S-sure.”

Initially Oliver feels relief, even delight, which fades slightly when the doctor leaves the room, telling them she’ll have the prescription ready at the front desk when they leave. When they’re alone again, Oliver looks at Connor expectantly. 

“It’s not for anyone else, you can relax.” He finally says, as he stands. “I’m not sleeping with anyone else.”

Oliver nods and loosens up again. He’s a bit embarrassed at how quickly his mind jumped from one conclusion to the next. He starts removing the gown and putting his clothes back on. Connor doesn’t look away this time.

“Connor… are we… are we getting back together?” He asks hesitantly.

The other man looks away uncomfortably at that. “Oliver…”

“I miss you. And I love you. I want you to come back.” Oliver says as he puts his shoes back on, nearly losing his balance because he refuses to take his eyes off the other man. “It’s not the same without you. And… the apartment is too empty. I want you to come home, please.”

“I think it’s good for us to get some space for a while,” Connor finally says.

“What does that even mean? How can this possibly be doing us any good?”

“Look, can we–can we talk about this anywhere but here?” Before Oliver can get another word out, Connor’s already heading for the door, leaving the other man to follow him helplessly.

Connor picks up his prescription at the front desk, while Oliver makes an appointment for his next check up, a mere four months away. He thanks the receptionist, who gives him a sympathetic smile as he leaves. He’s pretty sure the whole office now knows they’re going through a _rough patch_. But he doesn’t think much more of it before he runs after Connor, who’s already waiting for the elevator.

“Connor! Connor, how about we talk about this now!”

The other man avoids his eye as they both get into the elevator. He silently presses the ground floor button.

“You can’t avoid me forever, we should just discuss this.”

“I’m not sure talking will help.”

“But silently avoiding each other will?” Oliver asks incredulously. “Look I’m… I’m so grateful you came with me today. Whatever is going on with you, just tell me, and we’ll get through it together.”

Connor shakes his head as they exit the building into the parking lot. He starts walking towards his car but Oliver grabs his arm before he can get too far. 

“Talk to me, please. Connor! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry–”

“Stop apologizing! I’m not mad about Stanford. I’m really not. It was a drop in the bucket compared to what I’ve been keeping from you.”

“Okay, then–then what is it? You–you haven’t said a word about… about what really broke us apart. You haven’t explained anything. I deserve _more than that_ , Connor.”

Connor looks away, and Oliver grips him by the arms because it looks like he might break into a run at any moment. “Don’t run from me. You keep saying you have secrets and you want to keep me away from that part of your life. The part that I know nothing about. Why?!”

“I’m trying to keep you safe, Ollie.” He whispers.

Oliver’s shoulder drop at the familiar nickname, and he loosens his grip just slightly. “I’ve missed that,” he says softly. “You calling me Ollie. No one else uses that name.”

Connor sighs softly as they look at each other. He too relaxes a bit, and he licks his lips, not knowing what else to say.

“I miss you,” Oliver murmurs.

“I miss you too.”

They both grin softly for a bit, before Connor groans, and breaks away with a bleak laugh. “You know what I’ve been doing these past two weeks? I’ve been going over it, again and again. Trying to find some way to fix us.”

Oliver watches him sadly. “Are we really that broken?”

“No–I mean, not _us._ But I’ve got all this crap in my life, that doesn’t involve you, and I don’t want it to. It’s ruined me, and I don’t want my mess to ruin you too.”

“Connor, whatever it is, it can’t be that bad–”

“No! I–I need to tell you. If we’re ever going to be okay, I need to tell you. I know that now. But I’m so terrified that you won’t want to be with me once you know.”

“Of–of course I will.”

Connor shakes his head. “You can’t promise something like that. You can’t promise that you’ll look at me the same way. And you can’t promise that you’ll still love me, once you know.”

Oliver drops his arms to his sides. He knows Connor is right. But he can’t imagine something bad enough that could cause him to stop loving the other man. 

“You’ve been there for me. You have. Every single time that I thought you wouldn’t, every time that I thought you’d change your mind, decide that it was too much, or not worth it–you’ve still been there for me. And I love you, so much. So it’s only fair that I return the favor. I know you, Connor. Despite what you might think, I know you. And I know you’re a good person. Whatever shit that you’ve found yourself in. It’s my turn to be there for you. So I do promise.” 

He slowly leans forward, takes the other man’s face in his hands, and presses a soft kiss to his lips. He feels Connor give in to the kiss, relaxing against him. It feels so familiar, and it shocks him to the core, the sudden realization just how much he’s missed this. 

They’re both a bit out of breath when they finally break apart. And Oliver can see a hint of tears in the other man’s eyes. 

“Um… What–what are you doing tomorrow night?” Connor asks hoarsely.

Oliver shakes his head with a smile. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“How about I come over for dinner? You can cook, I’ll set the table and complain that it’s taking too long, like old times.” He says softly with a laugh. “And then… I’ll tell you everything. All of it. I know you can’t promise that you’ll be okay with it. I know that–”

“Connor, I do. I promise–”

“Oliver, you don’t know–”

“I know that I love you. I know that I want you to come home. And I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Nothing you say, could possibly change that.”

Connor grins wryly. “Don’t make me prove you wrong,” he says with a dry laugh.

“I love you,” Oliver repeats, as he presses their lips together again.

“I love you, too.” Connor murmurs against him. And they stay like that for a while. Eventually, Oliver feels eyes on them, and thinks _faintly_ , that he hears cheering. He glances up towards the building to see grinning faces pressed against the window of the third floor doctor’s office. It pulls a wide smile onto his face.

Finally Connor pulls away. “I’ll uh–I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Oliver nods, wishing already that it were tomorrow. But he continues to hold Connor’s hand until the other man finally pulls it out of his grasp. With a final small wave, Connor turns and heads to his own car.

He takes a deep breath of relief as he watches Connor pull away. Mentally he goes over a list of things he has to do. Clean the apartment, go to the store, change the bed sheets, prepare Connor’s favorite meal, seduce boyfriend into moving back in…

He grins to himself as he watches Connor’s car drive out of sight.

Looks like they have a lot to talk about.

**Author's Note:**

> [x](http://winters-blue-children.tumblr.com)


End file.
